


Mine vs Yours

by Irishgrlnextdoor



Series: SladeRobinWeek 2018 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Possessive Behavior, Sladin, sladerobinweek, sladerobinweek2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-07-27 11:35:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16218185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irishgrlnextdoor/pseuds/Irishgrlnextdoor
Summary: Day 2: possessive behaviorDick Grayson will not be denied.





	Mine vs Yours

Day 2: Possessive Behavior

 

* * *

Slade lined up the mark, steadying himself, squeezing the trigger. The silencer gasped in the night as the gun fired, but that was all the noise there was to signal the death of his target in the cool night air. Nicolas Brovitsky would be found tomorrow morning, dead in his hotel room, a single bullet hole through the glass of his suite’s window and into his brain. Contract fulfilled.

Slade dismantled his weapon and returned it to its proper carrying case in less than 80 seconds, leaving the roof of the skyscraper he had staked out his target from. Wintergreen pulled a car around, right on time to meet him at the side entrance of the building where no cameras would see them. Slade put his case in the trunk before slipping into the passenger seat of the miss-marked BMW.

The elder Englishman didn’t have to ask Slade if the mission had been a success. He was right to always assume it was.

“Take me to Christopher’s, Wintergreen. We’ll collect the rest of the payment and get home.”

“Absolutely.”

Slade had just pulled out his phone and turned it back on to contact the broker, but frowned instead when it started vibrating in his hand like a prize-winning hooker. He knew who had been trying to contact him before the phone could even catch up to the number of missed calls and messages pouring in. This same old spiral again.

: **11 missed calls from Bat Boy #1. 23 text messages from Bat Boy #1 :**

Slade growled through his clenched teeth. He had warned Dick very clearly not to do this again. It was annoying.

Not about to encourage bad behavior, Slade ignored them all, contacting Christopher instead. Even while he was talking to the man his phone alerted him to another call being missed.

Slade turned his phone back off after the call.

He was dropped off at his safe house three hours later.

Dick was already there, waiting for him. Slade’s security had alerted him two hours ago of the boy’s intrusion.

He walked right past the glaring vigilantly, stripping his armor slowly as he went. Dick followed like a displaced shadow.

“Where were you tonight? I tried to reach you. I-

“Working,” Slade snarled in response to the clipped tone the younger man was daring to use with him. “I’ve told you before not to pester me like some jilted twat.”

Dick paused in his trailing of the larger man, but only came back even more indignant. “Is it so wrong that I was worried?”

Slade scoffed at that. “I can guess what you were worried about, and it’s starting to get pathetic.”

Dick stormed around to cut off Slade, but still had to sidestep when he was almost barreled over. “You asshole! Should I  _not_  be worried? Like there isn’t a chance you were out fucking someone else tonight. Are you telling me you wouldn’t if given the chance?”

Only when Slade reached the cabinet that he kept his armor in did he pause at all, still refusing to so much as look in the younger man’s direction; done with his childish antics and ready for him to leave. He was a good fuck, but this spiral he liked to take them in was growing more and more irksome every time.

Dick would seem on board for what was going on here. Just a bit of fun every now and then. Casual. No strings attached. They would fuck for a while, and then he would start… expecting things of Slade. Things he had no business expecting. Silently at first, and then eventually voicing them as suggestions. Sleeping over, sharing an occasional meal, letting him come over on nights they hadn’t agreed upon prior. Sometimes Slade gave on them because they led to extra fucking. The times they didn’t… frankly it was a waste of his time. He would start refusing, and then Dick would start demanding, pouting, and insisting that it was only right and that Slade was being cruel by denying him anything other than sex.

Slade would break it off… for a time.

Dick would usually back off… for a time.

Then he would start seeing the young acrobat around again with a supposed change of heart. Then they would start the cycle all over again. This was the third time already that Dick had started overstepping.

“Boy, you seriously need to check yourself,” Slade warned him. “First of all, I _always_ have the chance. _Always_. Secondly, if I fuck someone else it’s not anything for you to worry about because it’s none of your concern. Thirdly, I’ve told you before that the next time you pester me like this you could go find someone else to stick you. You’re too old for this shit… never mind _me_. Get out.”

Dick was fuming next to him, but for once he didn’t have a comeback ready. He just continued to glare up at Slade, and for a moment the assassin wondered if he might do something as crazy as try to attack him. He would lose if so. Quickly.

When he finally did speak his voice was so strained with his anger that it was hardly more than a hiss. “There’s someone else then, isn’t there?”

Slade almost wanted to laugh, but had a hard time processing the ridiculousness of the younger man in that moment. “Have you not heard a word I said? You know what, it doesn’t even matter. All you need to hear is what I said last. Get out, Boy. I won’t tell you again.”

Something flashed across Dick’s eyes then, something perhaps a bit unbalanced, but finally understanding of what he had been told. “You don’t…” like a switch had been thrown, he was suddenly remorseful, his entire body language changing to one of regretful submission as he batted those long lashes up at Slade, moving closer slowly… coyly. “You don’t want me staying? Just tonight? I- I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. I just get in my own head sometimes. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. Let me stay? Just long enough for that? I don’t want to go… please.”

He moved until his forehead was against Slade’s chest, voice full of remorse, his body warm where it pressed against Slade’s, which had been left cold from the night’s air. It was an act, mostly. An attempt at pacifying the man he had just provoked. He got like this, however, unhinged: possessive and suspicious of Slade when they were apart and then trying to take it back once he had him within his reach once more.

The boy had issues. Slade didn’t mind exploiting some of them to get what he wanted.

It was the other ones that made the vigilante overbearing that he had no interest in dealing with.

Slade said nothing, staring down with distaste in his one blue eye. It made Dick only try harder, pressing his body against Slade more and slowly wrapping his arms up around the back of the man’s sinewy neck. “Let me apologize to you,” he whispered, sweet as any kitten as he stared back up with bright blue eyes of his own that promised passion. “Let me make it up to you, Slade. I’m sorry I accused you of things you would never… ever… do.” There was a sharpness to his eyes at the last part, each word spaced by soft kisses to Slade’s jawline juxtaposed to the warning he was hiding in those words.

The boy didn’t get it. He was still doing it. Overstepping. Even when trying to pacify, he was also trying to threaten and manipulate the assassin into going along with what he wanted. It might have worked on a younger man, but Slade saw right through it.

Despite that… as Dick placed more kisses down his neck and chest and hummed against his abs as he dropped to his knees before the larger man, Slade made no move to throw him out. He told himself there would be time for that after. Right after.

For the moment he watched as Dick unfastened his pants, using his teeth to gently pull down the zipper. Watched those sultry blue eyes staring back up at him as a pink tongue ran over the rough denim to tease a bulge into formation beneath. Watched as the spiral continued to pull them both along its path.

 

* * *

Subscribe for day 3: Teacher student 

 


End file.
